Drake got back to his stand without any further interruptions, then continued his dreary task of reading the tax list. “Mrs. Zeneeda, a hundred sheckles,” he growled, barely retaining his posture. “I-I-I o-only have f-fifty f-f-five…” Drake slammed his gauntlet on the table and shouted, “Then get a job!” After recognizing his actions, he quickly added, “and pay me fifty for now. I’ll add sixty to next time, be sure you can pay.” The lady in front of the stand quickly pulled five coins from her purse and dropped it onto Drake’s stand, running away quickly, tears in her eyes.

“It’s a wonder how people can’t find jobs in this city,” he mused to himself, helping the next citizen in line. After a few more people, a strange-looking lady approached. She was very young, and he did not recognize her at all. “Hi,” she said, her voice and smile clearly forced, “Nice day we’re having here, huh?” Drake grinned under his visor and retorted, “What’s your business here, and what is your name?”

A few people from further back in the line began to watch intently, some annoyed at the hold-up, some generally amused. The shouts of the Harold next to the stand were rather loud, but the sound of the crowd and the other merchants drowned it out. Drake watched, intrigued, as the lady in front of him reached into what seemed to be her skirt. He decided to keep silent for a second, instead of questioning the nature of her actions. There was a slight separation down the midsection of her garment for a second, but she swiftly ended the awkward moment by revealing the fruit of her labor.

The lady held out a single coin to the guard, who was barely suppressing laughter, and a heavy blush spread across her face. After a second, Drake finally burst out into laughter. The sound was muffled under his visor, and it only lasted a few seconds, but it was a warm, hearty laughter which only a burly man could utter. “Lady, I can’t charge you unless your name is on the list,” Drake commented, pushing the lady’s offer back with his palm. “Unless you want to make a donation,” he added, leaning back slightly.

From the back of the line, a man shouted, “Hurry it up Captain!” A few other people quickly shushed the man, but Drake took no notice, staring intently at the lady for her response. [i]At the very least, her expression is priceless,[/i] he thought, bemused. Next to the stand, the Harold continued shouting loudly, words such as, “The town will meet its end! The council of sin will adjourn, and all the guards will die! So say the Assassin guild council, the most fearsome of men!” Drake quickly interrupted the people in front of him and shouted at the Harold, “SHUT UP ALREADY! The guards will crush any assassin who oversteps his bounds!” After hearing this, the harold quickly nodded at Drake and changed the subject of his banter.

A man from the crowd, who happened to be looking towards the alleyway, saw what seemed to be a black figure dropping down from the roof, softening his fall by clinging to each balcony and wall-sliding on the way down. The figure landed in a soft roll, then quickly hid behind a trash can. From there, he disappeared from view, watching behind the shadows, waiting for something. A slight murmur started to roll across the crowd as he commented on what he saw. Others started commenting, but it was treated with disbelief and pardoned as “a figment of your tired mind.”